


To The Depth and Breadth and Height

by peppermintlegs



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, look at them communicating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7844974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintlegs/pseuds/peppermintlegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ransom crawls up onto the top bunk to study instead of sitting on the floor or at the desk. He doesn't know what to say? And since when doesn't he know what to say to his best friend? Ransom realizes he's been missing Holster so much, between biology and captaining and March and med school apps. He realizes that Holster's gotta be missing him too, right? What kind of shitfest of a friend ignores his best bro for other shit that'll happen whether he's in it 100% or not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Depth and Breadth and Height

Holster catches onto Bitty around the beginning of October, before the puck bunny costume, even. Bitty's talking about Jack, or thinking about Jack, or he's mentioned Jack three times in the last half hour and gets this faraway look in his eyes and Holster can _tell_. He visits Bitty in the Haus kitchen later that afternoon while Bitty's cleaning up while waiting for a pie in the oven. Holster washes while Bitty dries, and finally says, "I know about Jack."

Bitty nearly drops the spatula he's drying, and says, "What about Jack?" in this funny voice.

"I know you like him, that you might be in love with him." Bitty's making a face that doesn't know what to do, so Holster continues. "Pining after him isn't going to do anything, and nothing's going to do anything if he's straight. Trust me. I'm sorry that this isn't what you want to hear, but he's got other things to worry about than his friend being in love with him."

Bitty doesn't know what to do. He can't say that Jack isn't straight, that he's happily in love and Jack's happily in love with him back, can't say that he's not in love with Jack because _that’s_ an obvious lie. So he thinks for a moment, doesn't let Holster keep talking. "Holster, that's not the situation at all." but then Bitty realizes that Holster's only partly talking about him, that Holster doesn't appear to be listening to him or looking at him much, and Bitty's heart breaks a little.

"Oh, sweetheart, hey. Hey, c'mere." He tugs Holster down into a hug. "It feels gross and bad, doesn't it? Like you're guilty and ashamed that your friendship isn't to you what it is to him, and that saying anything might ruin it, and that what can you say, really, besides the fact that you're grateful that he's even still your friend? It'll be okay, honey, don't you worry." And with that, Bitty's in host mode all at once. He pushes Holster away from the sink and down into a chair at the table. "I'll whip up some blueberry cobbler and we'll sit down and have a nice chat, huh?"

 

* * *

 

Ransom went to Samwell for the hockey, the bio program, and because the campus just felt right. His mom's a doctor, dad's an engineer, they could afford it, plus he got a lot of biology scholarships. Kid's a veritable genius. Met Holster his first practice and knew it was the right decision. Thinks of Holster as somewhere between a life partner and a brother, knows that they'll be by each other's sides till the end of the line. He doesn't realize that between captaining and March and biology and applying for med school that he's kind of shirking Holster, that he forgets to say yeah to watching shows or playing video games with him, that the cellys have been cut a little short in order to lead the team. Doesn't realize till halfway through the spring semester that he can't remember the last time he heard the 30 Rock theme song, can't remember the last time he's hung out for fun with anyone but March.

He studies in the attic one day, because the library might be giving him flashbacks. Holster's there, and Ransom doesn't like the way he barely glances at him when Ransom hikes up the stairs. Ransom crawls up onto the top bunk to study instead of sitting on the floor or at the desk. He doesn't know what to say? And since when doesn't he know what to say to his best friend? Ransom realizes he's been missing Holster so much, between biology and captaining and March and med school apps. He realizes that Holster's gotta be missing him too, right? What kind of shitfest of a friend ignores his best bro for other shit that'll happen whether he's in it 100% or not?

Ransom does the math in his head: he only _really_ needs four and a half hours of sleep for a regular day, if he wakes up early enough to grab some coffee from the kitchen. This studying doesn't need done till Thursday, and how much is he really going to retain if he's strung out like this? (He doesn't note that the voice doing all this explaining is Holster's in his head, whispered in consolation underneath a library table.) He leaves his textbook and notebooks on his bed and swings down to the floor, landing facing the beds.

"What're you watching?" Ransom asks, loud enough that Holster can hear him through his headphones.

Holster raises his eyebrows and barely glances up, but he does pause his laptop and take out an earbud. "Parks. It's March 31st."

Ransom cracks a grin at that, because he gets the joke, knows about the 94 meetings because he and Holster watched that one the day after Epikegster '13, had curled up on the couch like hungover cats and didn't move for what must have been seven or eight hours, except to pee and get more gatorade from the fridge. "Can I watch with you?" Ransom asks almost tentatively, because he knows that he deserves more than a little flak for being a shithead friend and that Holster, if in the mood, will have no trouble providing it.

Instead, Holster smiles a little and scoots over, removing the headphones from his laptop. "You're not worried about your quiz on Friday?" Holster asks doubtfully, still scooting over and making a space for Ransom on the narrow XL twin bed.

"I'm always worried, but I haven't been spending a lot of time with you lately, and I think we could both use some bro time."

Holster nods and starts the show back up, neither of them talking but both of them silently reveling in the other's presence, like plants that have been stuck in a cupboard finally seeing the sun again.

At the beginning of the next episode, when Holster's finally determined that Ransom probably isn't going anywhere in the next twenty minutes or so, he says, "So you know how I'm bi?"

Ransom says, "Yeah, bro. What, you finally land yourself someone to talk about?"

Holster shakes his head. "Nah, man. I mean, I _like_ someone but I don't think I'm gonna do anything about it because I'm pretty sure they're straight and I wouldn't want to ruin the friendship I've got with them."

Ransom's a little warier now but still blusters through, saying, "Brah, I'm pretty sure Bitty's, like, 100% gay but the unavailable part is why he won't go out with you." By this time it's known that Bitty has a boyfriend locked away somewhere and they're not allowed to meet him, which there's no little grumbling about but that's not the point.

"It's not Bitty, dude. He's been my friend for longer. It's like, a big deal. Or it would be, if I told him that I really like him and think I'm in love with him."

Ransom's shot through with a funny feeling now, something kind of jittery in his shoulders and stomach. "Well, maybe keeping that secret is doing more damage than sharing it would. You won't know until you tell him. Maybe he's as gone on you as you are on him." That still feels weird to Ransom, that Holster could be so hung up on some guy and not tell him, his best bro. "Maybe it could be something good, better than you're expecting."

Holster snaps the laptop closed, not bothering to pause Leslie's talking head. "And maybe it ruins years of friendship and the best relationship I could ever hope for, just because I got a couple wires crossed somewhere along the line. Maybe he hates me because I'm grossly in love with him and want his attention all the time and to hold his hand and keep him with me at night and I want to stay with him past college and maybe till death do us part but he's obviously not into that right now and won't be maybe ever, so I can't do that to him and I _can’t_ do it to myself. Not this close to graduation. Not this far in and not when we're so close to being out."

Ransom's really concerned now, glad that he talked to Holster now instead of in a week or a month and regretting that he hadn't for so long.

Holster feels like the hardwood floor is sinking beneath his feet, sucking him in like quicksand and making him feel small and trapped, no matter how tall he actually is.

Ransom shifts on Holster's bed. "Holtzy, what's up, man? You wanna tell me for real?" He licks his lips, worried that Holster's become more stressed than he is, worried that he hasn't been as good a friend as Holster needs right now. "I know I've been distant and gross lately but I wanna do what I can for you."

It's the "and gross" that gets Holster, that clicks into him all those months after Bitty said the same thing to him, that yes, everything is gross and not fun right now and the only way to maybe make it better is to make it grosser for a while. "Rans, you're my best bro, have been since I met you. Hope it stays that way for a long time, hopefully forever, but I know how things go after college. I know that you'll probably marry March or meet someone at med school or at the grocery store or in a coffee shop or at one of Jack's games and that'll be it, you know? That'll be the beginning of Ransom-and-whoever's rest of their lives and the end of Ransom-and-Holster, best bros ride-or-die. And that's fine, you know? That's what happens. People move on. What are the odds that I'd've met my soulmate-slash-best-friend-slash-future-husband-and-life-partner at my first hockey practice?

“It doesn't matter that I wanna be the one you make goofy heart eyes at or that I wanna take down the bunk beds so we can sleep next to each other every night or that when this whole college deal is done with and we don't know what's gonna happen we'll know that we'll still have each other to figure it out with and I wanna come home to you every night and kiss your damn cheek and it doesn't matter at all because we're friends and you've got March and you don't want me and you _won’t_ want me ever, not in the same way I want you. It doesn't matter that when we watch TV I wanna pull you closer and it doesn't matter that I want you in literally any way I can possibly have you, both sexually and non-sexually, and it doesn't matter it just doesn't because you don't feel the same way and I can't—" he stammers and hikes in a shaky breath, "I can't ruin the best friendship I've ever had over some dumb feelings that will probably go away once we stop seeing each other all the time. Out of sight, out of mind, right?"

Holster gives a sad little half-shrug and works his throat and won't look Ransom in the face. "You're my best friend ever, always will be, man, and I don't want to ruin that for either of us. So, yeah. I'll just. I can sleep somewhere else or something if it makes you uncomfortable. I'm sure Bits'll let me set up an air mattress in his room or something."

He works up the courage to glance at Ransom, stomach roiling, and Rans' shocked face is gonna be etched into his memory forever, he knows it. But he savors it anyway, the lines of Ransom's cheekbones and his always-happy eyes even when he's mad or sad or whatever his face is doing right now, and he can't help noticing that Ransom's mouth is hanging a little bit open and that his eyebrows are tilted in like how he does when he's imagining one of Holster's dumb plays on the ice, imagining if it'll work, and then Holster leaves like that, takes his laptop and his earbuds and exits the attic, leaving his best friend behind, shell-shocked and silent.

 

* * *

 

 

Holster's just. tired. when he gets to the kitchen. Bitty's in class so it's empty but for Chowder, who has miraculously fallen asleep on the kitchen table as though his bed isn't right upstairs. He huffs out a sigh that punches at the end like a sob and he guiltily books it to the front porch, maybe Faber if he can make it that far. Bitty's in class, yeah. So's Lardo.

Jack...might be busy with practice? Playoffs are soon, but he could at least leave a message, but then he thinks about it and Shitty might be his best bet. He calls while tripping over the cracks in the sidewalk, hoping against hope that Shitty isn't in class all the way at Harvard, but he gets a busy tone. Of course. Of all the times that Holster needs literally anyone to talk to who isn't Ransom, no one is available. He tries Jack. Surprisingly, Jack answers.

"Hi, Holster, what's up?" He doesn't sound as frowny as he used to, so Holster just emotion vomits into the phone.

"I told Ransom I'm in love with him and I don't know if we're friends anymore and I don't know what to do. Shitty didn't answer his phone and everyone else is in class and I didn't bug you at practice, did I?"

"No, I was just making lunch. Shitty didn't answer? That's not like him." Holster makes a noise in agreement but isn't really in the mood to talk about Shitty, which Jack appears to get, as he moves on pretty quickly. "So you're in love with Ransom?"

"I mean, yeah. Have been for years. Didn't know it wasn't obvious like I didn't really try to hide it?"

"No, no," Jack says. Holster can hear him shaking his head. "He couldn't tell. Shitty could. I could. Lardo probably knew it the first day she met you. It's not a bad thing, Holster. Other people being able to see that you're in love isn't something to be embarrassed by."

"So what do I do about Ransom?" Holster asks, peeling into Faber and checking out the rink. It's empty. "I kinda just...left him in the attic." He puts Jack on speaker in the locker room while he ties his skates.

"I don't know. You should probably talk to him more, let him know that you're willing to communicate with each other. The ball is in his court, so I don't think there's much you can do, besides just sticking around. Don't avoid him, Holster. That won't make it easy on anyone. You're both supposed to be leading the team, and you can't do that if you two won't talk to each other, even in a professional setting."

"So I just, I just wait for him to say something to me?"

Jack sighs softly into the phone. "That was very brave of you, to tell him outright that you love him and that you'd like something more from your relationship. What wasn't brave was running away right afterwards. You probably didn't let him even say anything, did you?"

Holster's guilty silence is answer enough. He can picture Jack pinching the bridge of his nose. "You two are so used to being in sync, on the same page, that you have no practice with real disagreements. You need to go back to the Haus. I can hear you in Faber. Go back to the Haus and hang out in the living room or the kitchen. Do not hole away in Lardo's or Bitty's room. You're going to make yourself accessible without pushing Ransom to talk to you. And you're going to ask Bitty to help you make a honey peach pie once he's done with his French homework."

Jack turns off the captain voice. "I'm sorry this is happening the way it is, but it needs to happen. You two are too good for each other to let this end over a miscommunication and cowardice. I have practice most mornings and workouts in the evenings, but I'll be available in the afternoons. Don't be stupid, and don't think that this will end you guys. Tell the team I say hi, and to stay out of trouble."

Holster laughs a little wetly, brushes underneath his eyes. "Thanks, Jack. I'm sorry this is such a mess. I'll call you tomorrow? Maybe later tonight? Would that be okay?"

Jack _hms_ and says, "I'll be done with workout by 9, but call before 10? I try to go to bed pretty early."

"Sure thing, Jack."

"Goodbye, Holster."

"Yeah, bye."

 

* * *

 

 

Ransom hears Holster stop at the kitchen and leave the Haus, then he dives for his phone, dialing the only person he can think of who might have a solution to this particular...atomic bomb.

"Yo, Rans, what's shakin, my man?" Shitty's narrow voice wavers out from the phone.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" Ransom asks, because Shitty's rarely so unobtrusive.

"Nah, bro, I'm just chilling. Harvard lads are uptight as fuck, gotta overcompensate by being as obnoxiously laid-back as possible. Nursey'd be proud. What's up?" he asks again.

Ransom stammers his way to, "Holster says he's in love with me?"

Shitty squalls over the line. "What? Dude, that's swawesome! About damn time! You've got, what, two months left? Shit, he really put it off, didn't he? Is he there?"

Ransom puts the phone back to his ear, having shoved it away when Shitty started yelling. "No, he, uh. He left. He went out. I don't know where." It hits Ransom again how much shifted when Holster stood up, said his piece, then went. Funny how the craziest thing to happen in Ransom's life involved him just sitting there and watching it, not saying a single word about it. "Shits, I think something's fucked up. I don't know what but I know it's not where it should be. What's, um? What do I do? What do we do?"

Shitty's quiet on the line for a moment. "He loves you? Romantically? He said that?"

Ransom shrugs, knowing Shitty can't see it but doing it all the same. "He said sexually and non-sexually and as more than a friend? It sounded hella romantic, bro. I want him to be happy, but I don't know if I can do it that way, you feel? It's not something I've thought about before."

Shitty lets another pause filter in. "This isn't something I can answer for you, brah. It's totally an internal situation. You've gotta do some major thinking and then get back to that man as ASAP as possible, because his end sounds time-sensitive."

Ransom starts at that. "No, actually! He said he'd be hung up for a while? He did also say that they might go away once we stop spending so much time together. So, not sure on that one."

"Think about the outcomes, man. You clam up, start avoiding him, he's gonna move on. Could be good, but you could lose your friendship. You keep hanging out with him, it's unfair to both of you. Not to mention if you reciprocate his feelings eventually. Would it be better to be wracked with guilt every time you see him, knowing how he's feeling, on the off chance you match up at some point? Or do you split and let him get over you, then realize you've loved him this whole time and now it's too late? This is something for _you_ to think about. What are you willing to risk? _Who_ are you willing to risk? This is a time for priorities and introspection. I gotta go, man. Class in like, 20 minutes which means I've gotta find a tie that doesn't have cartoons on it. Catch you at a Falcs game, yeah?"

"Yeah, thanks Shitty. See you." Ransom hangs up glumly, and lies back on Holster's bed to stare at the underside of his own.

 

* * *

 

 

Bitty's not surprised to see Holster sprawled across the nasty couch when he gets back from class. He _is_ surprised when Holster hauls all six feet four inches of himself into the kitchen afterwards with an expression dour enough to rival Eeyore's. "What happened, Holster? Tina and Amy cancel the Sisters DVD release party?"

Holster looks even more miserable at that, says, "No, it's nothing like that. Kinda. Remember last fall? When, um, we were talking about gross and bad stuff? And feelings?"

He's really not gonna say it. Too much has happened today as a consequence of his blabbermouth and god help him if he lets it keep going.

Bitty nods, worry creeping over his expression. "Did you...did you do something about it?" he asks softly. Chowder isn't asleep on the table anymore, probably went to bed like a normal person would, but Bitty keeps his voice down anyway.

Holster shakes his head. "I might've... _said_ something. A lot of things. About it? But I didn't do anything." Nothing that would've embarrassed him more than his words had. Nothing stupid like that. "He, um. He didn't say anything. I haven't heard from him. I'm not even sure he's in the Haus."

Bitty nods. "Are you okay?" Holster sits himself down at the kitchen table, rubbing at his face.

"Ohh, I don't know. Probably haven't been about this for a couple months now; another day or so doesn't make much difference, does it?"

"Do you want me to talk to him? It doesn't have to be about this, I can just gauge his mood?" Bitty clamps a warm hand onto Holster's shoulder. Holster nods, his face still in his hands.

"I just want everything to be okay," he says plaintively. "I just want my best friend to be my best friend. I just want to be his best friend without anything _stupid_ happening!" Holster is kind of dramatic. "I'm gonna step into the backyard, check out if we could do a garden over spring break. Leave a little legacy, you know?" He leaves (escapes) out the back door, hiking up the knob so it latches on his way out.

Bitty wastes no time in hollering up the two floors. "Justin Oluransi, you get your bubble butt down here!"

Ransom clambers down the stairs at that tone. "Yeah, Bits, what's up? Chowder fall asleep on the couch again?"

Bitty purses his lips. "Lord, no. As God is my witness, that boy is not falling asleep there again. What are you thinking for dinner? I can whip up some roasted chicken, or we could go to the dining hall. Not pizza again."

Ransom wonders why he got called down here for a dinner conversation, then notices Holster's bookbag under the table. "We can eat here. Mac and cheese, maybe? The good homemade kind?"

Bitty's confused for a moment. "Sure, hon, we've got the stuff for that. You have time to help? Don't forget about your quiz on Friday."

Ransom glances out the window to the yard. Bitty knows he can't see anything, really, because Holster's hiding his giant body underneath the kitchen window, but it makes him think. "Yeah, I should go study for that. Sorry about not helping! I can set the table later or something?"

Bitty nods, already digging through a cupboard for a skillet. "I'll call you down when need be. Study hard, sweetheart."

Ransom leaves then, at which point Holster comes back in, jostling the knob just right. "I feel like I'm in a sitcom with you two. Just talk to each other, my word."

"I feel gross," Holster says, rinsing his hands under warm water. "What're we making?"

Bitty shuffles through his recipe box. "Mac and cheese, your specialty. Ransom asked specifically. He seemed distracted. Went back upstairs to study. Now, how big do you chop this bacon?"

Dinner's less weird than anyone thinks it'll be. Chowder's a ray of sunshine after his nap and a half, but when isn't he. Lardo's quiet but she spends most of dinner texting under the table, probably with Shitty. Bitty spends his time watching Holster and Ransom ignore each other like a tennis match, glances flying and never meeting. Ransom compliments the meal, "macaroni's good." Holster gets an extra paper towel so he doesn't have to unfold the origami one Ransom did when he set the table. It's affectionate and horrible and Bitty feels like he's drowning and melting at the same time. He can't imagine how either of them feels with this crap actually happening to them.

Lardo and Chowder clean up and Holster reminds Bitty of his French homework. Ransom grabs his jacket and leaves the Haus, quietly shutting the front door behind him. Bitty's French gets done, Holster comes back from the Stop & Shop with canned peaches and a pound of butter. "Jack said I should ask you for help with a honey peach pie?"

Bitty raises his eyebrows. "You talked to Jack?"

"Yeah, he said that I should wait for Rans to say something, that I shouldn't be embarrassed by being obviously in love, that we have to communicate. He was really captainy, told me I was brave for one thing and stupid for another, which he was right about. Said that we're too good a pair to ruin it with miscommunication and shit. Not like that. You know."

Bitty nods with a wry smile. "Sounds like Jack. Now, is that butter cold still?"

 

* * *

 

 

March thinks she always knew it would be this reason, the only question would be the timing. Three weeks, three months, three years, ten, no matter what, Ransom would be leaving for exactly the reason he's giving her.

"It's a Holster thing. I—something came up. And. I don't know what to do about it."

"Have you tried talking to him?" March asks rationally.

"I'm gonna," Ransom hedges, rolling one of his shoulders. "Just, it's what he said. I can see it. I can picture it so clearly, what he wants? And I think picturing it is making me feel it, and feeling it is making me want it, and it's not that I don't want you, it's just that—"

March smiles kindly and a little bit sadly. "You see him as your endgame. Nothing either of us does can change that, Justin, I get it. You're gonna both be really happy, I know it."

"I'm sorry it's like this," Ransom apologizes.

"Hon, I'm glad it's happening now and not right when you two don't have time to get your acts together. It's ultimately a good thing, babe. You need anyone to talk to, you've got that whole hockey team right there. You'll have me and the girls, too, after a while. Best of luck, Justin." She gives him a swift but solid hug, kisses his cheek before he stands up. "Go get him, and invite me and the girls to the wedding. We know how to throw a real party."

He laughs and she smiles and her heart breaks a little but she knows he's going to be happy in the same way the trees will start budding in the next couple weeks, and she grabs her phone to call April once he's gone.

 

* * *

 

 

The Haus is quiet when Ransom gets back, Chowder plugged into his laptop and tapping away at what must be code, from the look on his face, Lardo shut in her room but with music softly coming from under the door, Bitty's muffled humming coming from his room, and Holster's pacing in the living room, on the phone with someone.

"No, I just, everything feels weird and hazy right now? I don't know if I should be worried or sad or whatever and it's grossing me out." He's quiet for a while. "I don't know what to expect. Dinner was weird, but of course it would be. I don't know." Another pause. "No, he left. I dunno, about an hour ago? I was working on a pie with Bits, like you said to. Yeah, it did help with the stress a little, thanks. All right, I've gotta go. Thesis to write, day to regret, all that bullshit. Love ya, bro. Talk to you soon."

Ransom actually comes into the Haus, knocking over an umbrella stand and into an end table. "Who was that?"

"I called Jack. Just wanted to catch up. Where'd you go?"

Ransom takes a breath. "Visited March."

Holster's face visibly falls and then puts itself back together, a broken smile wrenched together with his big square teeth. "Yeah? You taking her to Spring C?"

"We broke up."

Holster's stomach drops for a nice garden variety of reasons and his smile contorts into the frown it's wanted to be. "Bro, that sucks. I'm sorry. Wanna play some Halo to work through the misery?" He's already moving toward the couch when Ransom stops him.

"Actually, I'd like to, uh, talk. About it. The breaking up. With March."

"Man, you don't have to if you don't wanna, like I'm perfectly fine just—"

Ransom interrupts him. "Can we have a real conversation??" Holster, from his position on the sagging couch, looks all the way up at him, taken back.

"I've spent all day dealing with what you said earlier. You've been dealing with it for four years, and I got a single day. Cut me. A little. Slack. I had to break up with my girlfriend, who is pretty much the literal greatest person ever, so that I could deal with talking to you. I had to call Shitty in the middle of the day so he could help me LITERALLY NOT AT ALL while he looked for a tie that doesn’t have cartoons on it. I've had to deal with my best friend in the world avoiding me because he thinks his crush is going to obliterate the world's strongest friendship. Bro, today has been A Lot. Now. You said earlier something along the lines of Till Death Do Us Part or whatever, right?" Holster nods. "How serious were you about that."

Holster clears his throat. "About as serious as I am about Katy Perry."

"All right, so you weren't joking about that. Good. Fine. You love me? In all the ways?"

Holster nods again. "To the depth and breadth and height?"

"Shit, yeah, dude. All that. It's gross. I piss myself off just thinking about how gone I am on you," Holster says.

Ransom frowns. "Ok, get up. Go upstairs. We're going upstairs. Go on." Rans herds Holster up to the attic, sweeping at him with his hands. He shuts the door behind them when they make it. "You're in love with me. You have been for a while. You will be for a while. You're sticking with it. Okay." He takes a deep breath. "I love you. Platonically. Romantically. Not sure about the sexually yet but probably. I probably will really, really want you when I get home from work or school most nights. I'll wanna sit down with you for dinner, some nasty-ass, unflavored white boy food, then we'll watch a dumb documentary about fish and then go to bed and have really vanilla sex. Every night for a long time. Is that what you want?"

Holster's eyes are shining. "I don't care what we get so long as it's you walking through that door every night. You heard me the first time around. Kiss on the cheek, fall asleep next to you, wake up with you octopussed around me. You absolute dork."

"And what about now? Can. Can I kiss you now?" Ransom asks, taking a step forward. "May I?" He takes another step so they're nearly chest-to-chest.

Holster tips his head down so their noses touch. "If you want to. I'd like that."

Ransom's never kissed anyone taller than him before, and he's also never kissed a boy. Figured Holster would check off those things. Along with everything else. For the rest of their lives. The thought makes Ransom smile into the kiss, his lips pulling tight so it's not a kiss so much as a shared smile anymore.

Holster pulls back, lightly kisses the end of Ransom's nose. "Thanks for thinking about it. Thanks for. Deciding what you did."

Ransom shakes his head, still smiling. "Don't thank me, bro. Thank Shitty and Bits and March and your own dumb ass."

"You love my ass."

"Never said I didn't, babe."

 

* * *

 

 

Bitty's skyping Jack in his own room. "I haven't heard yelling or anything. I think they're okay."

Jack grins. "I'm glad it worked out. They're good for each other."

Bitty huffs out a laugh, holds Señor Bun tighter to his chest. "Gonna destroy the world, though. Tell me more about this love life advice you gave Holster?"

**Author's Note:**

> s/o to my English major ass sneaking in an Elizabeth Barrett Browning reference in the title  
> also s/o to Parks & Rec for being the best show rip in peace (I had to google whether 30 Rock had a theme song)
> 
> This is the first fanfic I've ever posted! I'm on tumblr (infrequently) as peppermintlegs, but you can find all the Check, Please! stuff at canadad-bob, a blog that my friends and I share!
> 
> thank you so much for reading omg !


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